


Sounds like a case for C.C Tinsley

by I_want_to_wheeze_ (N00dle)



Series: The Good, The Bad and The Dirty [1]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Detective Noir, Film Noir, Gen, I'll just politely ask you to not ship the boys, Kidnapping, My First Fanfic, No Romance, Tinsley is fucking insufferable, and i love him, and most likely fail, basically how Tinsley got fucking murked by Dr Fear, but i am a fucking coward and didn't release it until it was beta read, but i try to make it a detailed story, dr fear is evil, edited tags because apparently one of them was harassment??, no beta we die like men, old timey language, or my sorry attempt at it, so i guess i'll just have to die, soon there will be dialogues and detective stuff, sorry i guess, wish i could say
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-10-18 14:44:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17582837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N00dle/pseuds/I_want_to_wheeze_
Summary: A few years after the strange, unexplained vanishing of five of the nine Sodder children, C. C Tinsley is hired by the Sodders as a private investigator, being somewhat of a last resort.His conclusive investigations end up leading to an improbable ally, even more improbable arch- nemesis and a secret plot linking a vast majority of unsolved cases.It's up to him to get to the bottom of this mess.





	1. So no bones, huh?

**Author's Note:**

> Or how C.C Tinsley got fucking murked by Dr. Fear
> 
> Basically a fic I started writing at 1 am while I was very incoherent and thinking “how fun would it be to do a shitty fic about C.C Tinsley vs Dr. Fear?” that had me invested in the end so I guess this is a serious fic now. Oops

C.C Tinsley. Particular detective. Kind of a weird guy, awkwardly tall and lanky, didn't really look like a detective. Honestly, he looked more like an lost alcoholic, always sporting the same set of ratty clothes, with the only exception being his fedoras, which were always different colors (seriously who needs that much fedoras??). 

His physical appearance didn't help that much as well. Sure, he was the stereotypical tall, with long limbs and long pianist fingers, but all the rest of him was the farthest possible from intimidating. He had an angular face that could have looked menacing in literally anyone else and dark eyes that had a lot of intimidating potential if he didn't look like he was ready to mock everything and burst out laughing at all times.

The guy also seemed to have an strange liking to tea, instead of trademark coffee, always keeping a mug of it nearby. Apparently he used it to end arguments, taking a long sip and proceeding to look into a fixed point as if that would make him right.

All in all a pretty nice fella.

Despite all this, one thing was certain: while he was not the most pleasant person to have around, he sure knew how to solve cases. The guy was literally a miracle worker, having solved the trickiest cases no one in their right mind would try to work with. Gruesome, terrible, messy cases; cases long gone cold; hell, cases that were refused by many for alleged “supernatural reasons”. Like he was afraid of some nonexistent spooky business.

There was this thing, this determination, that made him keep going, no matter what. And that was what made him so good at what he did. In the end, the nature of the case didn't really matter. He always, always solved it.

Except for the time he finally didn't. He couldn't.

For the first time in his whole career, the infallible C.C Tinsley could not crack the case. And honestly, it was driving him insane. What seemed to be one of his customary, average cases had been dragging out without a solution for weeks.

With a killer headache slowly forming in the back of his skull, Tinsley asked himself why and how he got in that situation.

· . · : · : · . ·

**Fayetteville, West Virginia**  
**December 24, 1945**

_The story went this way: The Sodders celebrated on Christmas Eve, 1945. The ones that were present were both parents, George and Jennie and nine of their ten children, John (23), Marion (17), George Jr (16), Maurice (14), Martha (12), Louis (9), Jennie (8), Betty (5) and Sylvia (2). The eldest daughter, Marion, surprised the youngest children with early Christmas presents from the dime store she worked in. The three siblings, Martha, Jennie and Betty were excited with their new toys and begged their mother, Jennie, to let them stay up past their usual bedtime, to which she said yes as long as the older boys who were still awake remembered to complete their chores before going to sleep. She proceeded to go to sleep in her room upstairs, taking Sylvia, the youngest children with her._

_Some time later, at approximately 12:30 am, the mother, Jennie, awoke to the sound of the phone ringing downstairs and went to answer it. The caller was woman whose voice she did not recognize, asking for a person she was not familiar with and there was sounds of laughter and clinking glass in the background. When she told the woman she had called the wrong number and hang up, not before hearing the woman's “weird laughter”._

_As she returned to bed, she noticed that the light were still on and that the curtains were not drawn. She found it strange since the children normally took care of it if they happened to stay up later than their parents. However, she saw Marion asleep in the couch and assumed that the children had gone back to the attic where they slept. She then closed the curtains, turned of the lights and went back to bed, only to be awakened again at roughly 1 am, when she heard a loud bang and something rolling in the roof. She didn't hear anything further so she went back to sleep._

_Roughly half an hour later, she woke up with the smell of smoke, discovering the room her husband used as an office on fire. She then woke up George, and he went to lake up the oldest children._

_Jennie, George and four of their children escaped the house safely. The children in the attic however, didn't respond when their parents and siblings frantically yelled for them to get down. The parents couldn't get them out either, as the staircase was already on fire._

_The efforts to rescue the remaining Sodder children were unexpectedly difficult. The ladder that George planned to use for the rescue had vanished from its place, a barrel of water that could be used to extinguish the fire in the staircase was frozen solid and the empty coal trucks George wanted to climb to access the attic wouldn't start._

_The oldest daughter, Marion, went to a neighbor's house to try to get the fire department to extinguish the fire, but no one would answer any of the calls. A different neighbor tried again and when it didn't work, drove to the town himself to get the firefighters. Meanwhile, the Sodders had no choice but wait as they saw their house being reduced to ashes over the next 45 minutes. They assumed the five remaining children had perished in the blaze._

_In the following morning, the firefighters finally came and couldn't do much, but look through the ashes that were left in the Sodders’ basement. By 10 am, the fire department chief, Morris, told them that there were no bones left, as expected if the children perished in the fire, suggesting the fire had been hot enough to burn the bodies completely._

_Their death certificates were issued in December 30 in that same year._

__[Certificate of Death of Maurice Sodder:](http://www.forensicgenealogy.info/images/billboard_maurice_death_cert_cropped.jpg)  
Place of death:  
State: West Virginia  
Magistral District: Fayetteville  
City or town: Fayetteville  
Full name: Maurice Antonio Sodder  
Sex: Male  
Color or race: white  
Single, married or widowed: Single  
Birth date of the deceased: July 8, 1931  
Age: 14 years, 5 months, 17 days  
Usual occupation: Student  
Medical Certification:  
Date of death: December 25, 1945, at 1:30 am.  
Immediate cause of death: Possible suffocation due to smoke and/or severe burns. Body never found  
Due to: House fire 

__[Death Certificate of Martha Sodder:](http://www.forensicgenealogy.info/images/billboard_martha_death_cert_cropped.jpg)  
Place of death:  
State: West Virginia  
Magistral District: Fayetteville  
City or town: Fayetteville  
Full name: Martha Lee Sodder  
Sex: Female  
Color or race: white  
Single, married or widowed: Single  
Birth date of the deceased: January 22, 1933  
Age: 12 years, 11 months, 3 days  
Usual occupation: Student  
Medical Certification:  
Date of death: December 25, 1945, at 1:30 am.  
Immediate cause of death: Possible suffocation due to smoke and/or severe burns. Body never found  
Due to: House fire 

__[Death certificate of Louis Sodder:](http://www.forensicgenealogy.info/images/billboard_louis_death_cert_cropped.jpg)  
Place of death:  
State: West Virginia  
Magistral District: Fayetteville  
City or town: Fayetteville  
Full name: Louis Erico Sodder  
Sex: Male  
Color or race: white  
Single, married or widowed: Single  
Birth date of the deceased: December 30, 1936  
Age: 9 years, 11 months, 26 days  
Usual occupation: Student  
Medical Certification:  
Date of death: December 25, 1945, at 1:30 am.  
Immediate cause of death: Possible suffocation due to smoke and/or severe burns. Body never found  
Due to: House fire 

__[Death certificate of Jennie Sodder:](http://www.forensicgenealogy.info/images/billboard_jenny_death_certiif_cropped.jpg)  
Place of death:  
State: West Virginia  
Magistral District: Fayetteville  
City or town: Fayetteville  
Full name: Jennie Irene Sodder  
Sex: Female  
Color or race: white  
Single, married or widowed: Single  
Birth date of the deceased: September 19, 1937  
Age: 8 years, 3 months, 6 days  
Usual occupation: Student  
Medical Certification:  
Date of death: December 25, 1945, at 1:30 am.  
Immediate cause of death: Possible suffocation due to smoke and/or severe burns. Body never found  
Due to: House fire 

__[Death certificate of Betty Sodder:](http://www.forensicgenealogy.info/images/billboard_betty_death_cert_cropped.jpg)  
Place of death:  
State: West Virginia  
Magistral District: Fayetteville  
City or town: Fayetteville  
Full name: Betty Dolly Sodder  
Sex: Female  
Color or race: white  
Single, married or widowed: Single  
Birth date of the deceased: March 4, 1940  
Age: 5 years, 9 months, 21 days  
Usual occupation: Student  
Medical Certification:  
Date of death: December 25, 1945, at 1:30 am.  
Immediate cause of death: Possible suffocation due to smoke and/or severe burns. Body never found  
Due to: House fire 

· . · : · : · . · 

What happened in that day at the Sodder home was really unclear, to say the least. Or “shady as hell” as quite literally everyone in the city would say to anyone, those who asked and those who didn't. 

According to the official report, the cause of the huge fire that had the home reduced to ash in mere 45 minutes was simply faulty wiring. In a house that was recently checked and deemed safe by the electrical company. In a house that still had the lights on while burning to the ground, which was impossible if the alleged cause of the fire was true. 

Sure, it was just faulty wiring. 

And the weird details didn't stop there. The fire department car only got to the scene after seven hours since the fire started, and it came from only 2.5 miles away. The ones investigating the case wouldn't accept help from anyone, not even the FBI and even though the case had been cold for years. The fire department chief wouldn't let George or any of the other family members get even close to the old house, allegedly due to the fact that the terrain needed to remain as undisturbed as possible, so the state fire marshal's office could conduct a more throughout investigation. 

That had been ages ago, and the Sodders were sick and tired of waiting for the closure they longed so much for. As the time passed, more and more the Sodders started suspecting that the children had not died in the fire, and we're still alive, but missing. Innumerable little discoveries coming from various sources made them sure the kids were still alive, from a telephone repairman to a crematorium employee and even Jennie’s own experiments. So they did what seemed logical, and tried to hire a private detective to try and find what the local investigators couldn't. 

However, it seemed like life had other plans. Not a single hired investigator could find any new leads or anything relevant. The local investigators wouldn’t help in the least, and it seemed like all of them abandoned the case when they got the slightest bit closer to discovering anything. 

At that point, the Sodders were getting truly desperate, willing to accept the most improbable help. That’s what got them to contact Tinsley, a man known for resolving those hopeless cases. A man avoided by many, for he was a kind of last resort, a investigator normally seeked by those who were desperate, hopeless and willing to put up with literally anything to have their needed closure. Because,and anyone who spoke with him could confirm, his attempts to lighten the mood were simply _insufferable_. And the poor Sodders would find that out soon enough. 

_“What’d ya say? No bones, huh? Hmm, sounds like a case for C.C Tinsley.”_


	2. Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our favorite detective has flashbacks from two minutes ago, says fuck the police and gets lost in a public building, only to find some creepy plot relevant dude
> 
>  
> 
> Or, the author has a hard time finding synonyms for "said"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes hello, I did say this was going to have a regular schedule so here is the next chapter. I wanted to post more times a week, but I was in the middle of writer's block( still am actually) and there was a lot of dialogue in this chapter, so I avoided writing it like the plague.  
> I will try to update more times a week though
> 
> also I thought it would be funny to make Tinsley talk kinda weirdly, with old slang and stuff, because that's (kind of) how he was characterized in the Sodder Children episode. I will put their meanings in the end notes though

_ “What did ya say? No bones, huh. Sound like a case for C.C Tinsley.” _

 

If the looks on George and Jennie’s face meant anything, they definitely were not expecting what they had just heard. Which was not a surprise, considering most people reacted the exact same way when meeting  the one and only C.C Tinsley.

 

If he had to guess, the next thing the couple in front of him would do was stare worriedly at each other’s eyes, as if they were asking themselves ”Are we really going to put up with this goon? Does he have any idea what is he doing or is he just an absolute buffoon like that other gumshoe that came last time? Should we trust him? What if-”. 

Well, perhaps they weren’t thinking exactly like this. They most likely wouldn’t even  _ think  _ about the same weird sentences as he did, but surely would be thinking something along those lines. They probably would have a quick whisper exchange, that he would have to pretend not to hear, and one of them, most likely Mr Sodder would voice his thoughts out loud, though probably in a way less blunt way than the one he was certainly thinking about...

 

He didn’t have time to think much more about it, as a abrupt voice cut his train of thought. Ït was Mr. Sodder, and the look he was giving Tinsley, was worryingly worse than he expected.

 

_“So MIster Tinsley,”_ oh boy. There was way more than simple skepticism in his tone of voice. Tinsley should  _ really  _ change his approach to the matter, then. He had kind of hoped he could get away with his normal sense of humor, but this was a delicate case, different from every other. What could he do in this case? _“How long have you been doing this?”_

 

If he wasn’t seated directly in front of the Sodders, he might not have noticed how Mrs Sodder’s fingers tightened into a fist in her lap or how she discreetly elbowed George on the side, as if to signal that he was being impolite anyway. But he did notice, and so to avoid an awkward silence, he straightened up and started talking again, albeit in a much more professional way.

 

_ Your concern is understandable Mr Sodder. I have been in the private investigator business for about five years now. I admit that does not sound very impressive, but I have dealt with more of this so called “impossible”cases before. Most people only seek me as a last resort, after they don’t have much choices left.” _ He paused, looking at the Sodders.  _ “And I believe you have only contacted me for that reason too. While I am unable to guarantee that your children are still alive or if they’ll ever be found”  _ Mr e Mrs Sodder visibly flinched at that particular part “ _ I can tell you that  I have solved every single one of he desperate cases that I got my hands into. I  _ will  _ find the truth. I always do. _

 

The Sodders turned to each other again, seemly in a wordless conversation. He couldn’t decipher their expressions. Now, there’s hoping he didn’t sound too improfessional. Or cocky. Or anything else that could ruin it.

 

The Sodders had seemly reached an agreement, nodding quickly before turning back at the detective, eyeing him expectantly with their intertwined hand hanging in the space between their two chairs. 

 

He almost let out a sigh of relief when Jennie Sodder turned to him with a more trusting, perhaps hopeful expression, albeit still cautious and said:

 

_ “We understand if you can’t give us those guarantees. All we want is the truth you promised to uncover. Nothing more” _

 

_ “Very well. So tell me, since the police haven’t come up with anything worthwhile, have you got anything to help me start off? Perhaps some work of the previous gumshoes or something like it?” _

 

Mrs Sodder wordlessly slid a small pile of papers and folders out of her purse, putting it in the table with a kind of disappointing sound. That seemed like way to little, considering all the work that was put into that investigation by the hands of so many people.

 

_“Is this all you have?”_ he inquired, quite disappointed with that meek stack of information.

 

“Unfortunately, yes. At least for now” she noted, sliding the stack across the table.

 

_“All the previous detectives we hired never seemed to uncover a lot.”_ sounded Mr Sodder. _“None of them lasted very long on the job as well. They all just left when they started to look like they were doing progress. We really think someone is holding them back, someone powerful, probably the one who was the mastermind behind all this or… I don’t know, what do you think?”_

 

_“I don’t.”_ he reported, flipping through the files. _“ At least for now. I can’t really draw a conclusion without investigating this further.I mean, that’s what I do, I_ _ am a detective and all that. I can't just go accusing people left and right without doing my search first." _

 

The couple nodded in understanding acknowledgment, although they did seem somewhat disappointed with Tinsley’s response. Oh well,there was nothing he could do about it ,in the end.

 

“ _Anyway, you did say this was all, but what about the police? Do they really don't have anything useful to add?”_

 

_“Not really. They don’t let anyone access a lot of information on the case. We do have access to the death certificates”_ Mrs Sodder hummed in clear discomfort. _“But that’s about it. We can request permission for you to see them, though.”_

 

He nodded, rearranging the stack of folders and preparing to leave.

 

_ “Understood. Thank you for your time Mr e Mrs Sodder. This should be enough to start off. I promise, I  _ will f _ ind out the truth about your children.” _

 

_“We just want to find out what really happened._ ”Mrs. Sodder revealed as she and her husband conducted the tall detective to the front door. _“ Have some closure, you know?”_

 

_“I understand.”_ He really did not. There was no one in his life that was lik the missing children to the Sodders. No one he loved in that visceral way, one person who he would do anything for, like the Sodders did with the dozens of hours, resources, everything they spent to get them back. So yeah, he  _ really did not  _ understand.

 

He left with a sour farewell.

  . · : · : · . ·  

Tinsley could say one thing for sure: Fayetteville was the best and the worst at the same time, as were the people who lived and worked there. 

 

The good side? It was a quirky little town, whose people were close amongst each other and mostly friendly, despite a few unusual individuals.

 

The bad side? Everything was still a big mess since the Sodder incident, which was recently brought back to the public’s attention, since George and Jennie became convinced the fire was not an accident and that their children were still alive. The fact that they went as far as trying to involve the FBI, and then, when the geezers of the fire and police department denied their request, hired a series of particular investigators surely were even more aggravating factors.

 

And yet, though the Sodders had done everything in their power to get their well deserved closure, it seemed like the universe had other plans. Or maybe it was just the local workers not knowing how to do their job. The most likely option, since no one seemed to know how to do their jobs. The police and fire the department, even the coroner. Everything was a complete  _ mess. _

 

Getting anything out of these salty yucks at the fire and police department was a literal pain in the neck. They wouldn’t spill much more than the "official story”and other facts that were undoubtedly, completely bilge.

 

He did get to see the death certificates, though. They were definitely rushed and did seem very fishy. But dagnabbit, did that really help? Not at all.

 

The only thing he could really use was a single name he found out while looking at a list of the coroner’s jury (which somehow was pretty easy to get). He vaguely recognized the name, and when he went back to the files the Sodders had gave him, he understood why: that was the same man that had threatened George Sodder a few months prior the fire. The guy who said the house “was going up in smoke” and the children were “going to be destroyed”, was somehow part of the coroner’s jury. Who put up this jury? The coroner? What was he thinking? “We’re putting together a jury to investigate this crime. Can you, uhh, wrangle up all the uhh… maybe some lunatic salesman?”

 

But apparently no one knew where that guy lived, or maybe they just didn’t want to talk.

 

And that was why he was now somewhat lost in the middle of the halls of  the tiny city county, trying to get access to the public records, just to find the address of a single lunatic. What fun.

 

He didn’t get to wander for much longer, as he accidentally bumped into someone. It was a man, possibly even taller than he was. He was carrying a single folder with him, which almost got knocked off with the impact. And oh, did he look pissed.

 

_“I’m sorry, Mr..?”_ the detective chirped awkwardly.

 

“ _It’s doctor._ ”said the man, dusting off his clothes and promptly walking away.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this much dialogue was painful, I hope it was at least decent.
> 
> anyway here's the little slang list  
> gumshoe: particular detective  
> goon: weird/ugly man  
> Geezer: old man  
> Salty: terrible  
> yuck: a stupid or foolish person  
> Bilge: bullshit


	3. Important Information: They are Italian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tinsley threatens a local salesman, tries to wipe out the big mess the previous detectives left him and interrogates some witnesses.
> 
> Just some basic detective work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay first of all I haven't posted in like weeks?? I dunno. I don't think there's a lot of people reading at this point, but if you are, I'm really sorry. School is back and I recently got the Sims 4, so all my free time has been spent in drowning simulated people because I want simulated ghosts since real ones Do Not Exist.
> 
> Anyways it doesn't matter, let's get to the new chapter! Aka: “Local detective bullies lunatic salesman and whines about a thickening plot and uncooperative witnesses”, see more at 6.

The sky was grey with heavy rain clouds that had hung around for days now, an empty threat that never came true. And Tinsley—well, he couldn't care less, as long as it didn't get in the way of his investigation.

 

At first it seemed like luck was on his side. Even after that ridiculous stunt with that man at the city county—“ _It's doctor”_. Gee, what a pretentious yuck— he finally managed to get the address he was looking for. The lunatic lived right down the road. If that wasn't luck, he would eat his hat.

 

Now, standing in the front of the house he realized maybe he found exactly the opposite of he thought of luck. That house sure did look like some crazy person’s evil lair. A stereotypic old house, in the middle of a dusty terrain, barren, expect for a few decaying trees, devoid of any leaves. Every available surface looked covered in dust and a few wooden parts of it hanged around precariously. He supposed it probably should look like it was well lived in, but that part in particular, it surely felt… well, off. A house that had, you know, people, living in them definitely wasn't supposed to look like that.

 

Closed curtains and the sheer lack of any marks in the thick layer of dust that permanently sat outside made it look like not a single soul lived there. Or if they did, they more than surely didn't left the house for quite a long time.

 

At that point, Tinsley was slightly concerned about the outcome of that particular interrogation. The guy didn't seem to get out of the house at all. Hell, the house didn't even look lived in, was there anyone at all there?

 

He decided he would try anyway. The detective knocked on the door— the doorbell didn't work—and waited. Although he thought he heard faint footsteps coming from somewhat close to the door, there didn't seem to have anything else to indicate there was someone in the house.

 

He tried knocking again, louder, hoping that would be annoying enough to force that lunatic lad out of his hiding.

 

It did pay off in the end, as he heard what sounded like hurried footsteps in a stair, followed by a bang and a rolling sound— which he couldn't help but imagine it being the guy tripping and tumbling downstairs— accompanied by a muffled string of cursing and a annoyed yell of _“ I heard you the first time, geez”._

 

Tinsley tried and failed to hold back a snicker. The detective sure did hope he could stop before the man got there. He ended up accomplishing a halfway serious facade right as the footsteps reached the door in front of him.

 

The door was slightly open, concealed by a security chain, revealing… a quite ordinary looking man. Fairly tall, looked like he was around  40–45 years old, had light eyes and fair hair, not really what he expected from a murderous, arsonistical lunatic, really.

 

“ _Who the hell are you? What do you want?”_ the man nearly yelled while eyeing Tinsley with suspicion. Well, at least he fit into my role of a loudmouthed, rude “bad guy”. Nothing the detective couldn't handle easily.

 

“ _Are you by any chance Mr. Keane? T. Keane?_ ” C.C asked rapidly, before the other man could protest.

 

The so-called salesman nodded reluctantly while starting to speak:

 

_ “You still didn't—” _

 

_ “Great! The name's C.C Tinsley, private detective.” _

 

_ “So, a gumshoe, huh?” _

 

The detective merely nodded, continuing his rapid fire instantly. “ _The Sodders contacted me a few days ago. It was regarding their children, the ones that died in the fire. Or that were kidnapped, according to Mr. and Mrs. Sodder. You probably heard all about it already, yeah? Small town and all that.”_

 

Keane opened his mouth to reply, only to be cut off by Tinsley, still spilling his words at the speed of light.

 

“ _Well, Mr. Keane, in a recent search through the case files, something was brought to my attention, something that very much relates to you. Some threats directed to the Sodders, extremely compatible with the actual case, made by a salesman a few days before the fire. A salesman that I have confirmed it was no one other than you. Got anything to say, Keane?"_

 

The man seemed to pale a lot after hearing that words. He did recover smoothly, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

 

“ _Got anything to say? My, my, how cocky of you. All you got is a name and some testimony of a scared, traumatized man who just lost half of this children. How is this going to play out?’_

 

_ “ What do you think I am here for, Mr. Keane? Maybe it won't be so bad for you if you cooperate.” _

 

_ “I hope you are aware I can still refuse to talk to you.” _

 

_ “Of course I am. That might not be such a good idea, though. _

 

_ “Oh?” _

 

_ “Your refusal will be suspicious, you know. Maybe not so much in a legal point of view, but the people will know. They will suspect and if I know anything about this town, they will do anything to find out. It seems like they are a kind of a package deal, you see. You mess with one of them, you mess with them all.” _

 

The other man paused for a second, seemly weighing down his options.

 

_“Very well”_ he finally concedes. _” What do you want to know?”_

 

\---------------------

 

The interrogation— if that awkward and unilateral conversation could be considered one— went from somewhat uncomfortable in the beginning, to a fully fledged nightmare in the end. That Keane guy was anything but cooperative. He'd only answer with a single word or say nothing at all.

 

At first Tinsley thought he was only trying to be cocky and infuriating. But the more he looked at the man, the more he seemed to lose his cocky asshole facade. It started with nervous glances around, which soon evolved to a fully paranoid mode and finally to the point he was basically hiding behind the all but closed door.

 

He ended it at that point. There was no point in keep pressuring the guy if he wouldn't or couldn't spill anything useful. the day was far from over, though. There was still a few people he wanted to check out, mostly just people who believed they saw the children somewhere. All of the testimonies were kind of incomplete, or just a brief observation. He needed something better than that.

 

And he was going to get it.

 

\------------------------

 

He spent the next couple of days piecing together a bunch of poorly made registers based off witnesses testimonies. The case files from which he had to extract all of that were— for a lack of a better, more offensive word— complete chaos, an absolute mess of paperwork. It had basically illegible parts, that seemed to get more frantic towards the end, loosely tied with strings of different handwriting and senseless words scratched on the paper edges. Incomplete witnesses testimonies and a copies of the children's death certificates were stapled somewhere in the middle of the heavy stack of papers. 

 

Honestly the previous investigators had done a poor _,lazy_ job. Everything was somehow incomplete, the previous researches were just taken over, obviously noticeable by just looking at the abrupt handwriting changes, almost none of it all had a use for. The exact same phone number was scrawled over a few times in different parts— it didn't work though. Not anymore at least, he tried calling it—like  no one even considered checking the other parts of the research.

He was very frustrated when he had to go to the county again. He really didn't want to find that prick in there again. Luckily he didn't, but it wasn't like that regarding the witnesses contact info he was so keen on finding. He managed to find just a couple of addresses and one or two phone numbers. A bunch of the addresses were out of the question for now, being way too far for now. At least those weren't that urgent, being just a collection of hypothetical sightings of the children.

 

On the closer locations, most of the witnesses refused to speak again and  asked not to be contacted anymore. All the efforts were almost proving to be fruitless. Mercifully, a single witness was finally reached, a woman that worked in a service station, roughly 80 km from the Sodder's house. Nancy Winters was working in the rest stop the morning next to the fire.

 

_“I served them breakfast_ ” she claimed. She also mentioned that the car the children were in had a Florida license plate.

 

Her testimony was, in its core, the absolute same he had read in the files.Tinsley tried to press in other questions. She didn't remember anything else. He was grateful anyway.

 

He managed to find another witness by sheer luck. Well, actually he traced her back from her old job in a nearby hotel. She currently lived in the neighboring city of Gauley Bridge. Barbara “Just call me Barb” Howell was actually very kind and helpful, adding useful information to the sloppy file.

 

“ _The children were accompanied by two women and two men, all of Italian extraction,”_ she told Tinsley in her statement. _“I do not remember the exact date. However, the entire party did register at the hotel and stayed in a large room with several beds. They registered about midnight.”_

 

“ _Italian extraction, huh?”_ C.C said, jotting down a quick note about that one very important overlooked information. Fayetteville had a very large population of Italian immigrants, much of whom disliked George for his angry and fierce views on the Italian dictator Benito Mussolini. That could've been directly related to the case, but was just sitting there, unused for this whole time.

 

_“That I remember of, yes.”_ she spoke thoughtfully. “ _I tried to talk to the children in a friendly manner, but the men appeared hostile and refused to allow me to talk to these children … One of the men looked at me in a hostile manner; he turned around and began talking rapidly in Italian. Immediately, the whole party stopped talking to me. I sensed that I was being frozen out and so I said nothing more. They left early the next morning.”_

 

As Tinsley continued asking questions, Ms. Howell— Barb— did her best to keep up and answer the best as she could. She was by far the most helpful person he had ever talked to. He thanked her profusely after leaving.

He opted not to tell Me. Sodder about the new worrying additions to the case. He was paranoid enough as it was. Besides, he had a new lead. A priest had confided in him and told him about that. Pretty ironic considering normally it was the other way around.

 

The new lead was very… peculiar, to say the least. He just couldn't wait.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nancy Winters and Barbara Howell aren't the actual witnesses names, I just couldn't find their real names. I didn't felt like just calling them women, so I gave them some made up names.
> 
> Now T. Keane? He was a real person and a suspect on a case that was briefly looked over at one of the first True Crime episodes.
> 
> If you're still reading this I hope this was worth the wait oof

**Author's Note:**

> So, I hope this was good? I mean i liked it, my beta reader liked it but I am never sure :')
> 
> I have a few chapters plotted already, I just have to effectively write them, so you can expect a regular update schedule for a while. Until school starts again at least
> 
> Also!! You can see the actual death certificates by clicking the links! The ones I put in the fic are just the most important points with a few adjustments, because the real ones were very sloppy and vague.  
> Pretty much unreadable too, whoever wrote it was really bad at it lol


End file.
